PROLOGUE

WRITTEN BY DR. JOHNSON;

Spoken by Mr. Bensley. (1)

PRESS'D by the load of life, the weary mind
Surveys the general toil of human kind;
With cool submission joins the lab'ring train,
And social sorrow loses half its pain: (2)

Our anxious bard, without complaint, may share
This bustling season's epidemic care,
Like Cæsar's pilot, dignified by fate,

Tost in one common storm with all the great ;
Distrest alike, the statesman and the wit,
When one a borough courts, and one the pit,
The busy candidates for power and fame,
Have hopes, and fears, and wishes, just the same;
Disabled both to combat, or to fly,

Must hear all taunts, and hear without reply.

(1) ["The first lines of this prologue are strongly characteristic of the dismal gloom of Johnson's mind; which in his case, as in the case of all who are distressed with the same malady of imagination, transfers to others its own feelings. Who could suppose it was to introduce a comedy when Mr. Bensley solemnly began

'Press'd by the load of life, the weary mind

Surveys the general toil of human kind.'

But this dark ground might make Goldsmith's humour shine the more." -BoswELL, vol. iii. p. 35.]

(2) [After this line the following couplet was inserted :—

Amidst the toils of this returning year,

When senators and nobles learn to fear,
Our little bard,' &c.

So the prologue appeared in the Public Advertiser. Goldsmith probably thought that the lines printed in italic characters might give offence, and therefore prevailed on Johnson to omit them. The epithet little, which perhaps the author thought might diminish his dignity, was also changed to anxious," &c.-MALONE.]

Uncheck'd, on both loud rabbles vent their rage, As mongrels bay the lion in a cage. (1)

Th' offended burgess hoards his angry tale,
For that blest year when all that vote may rail;
Their schemes of spite the poet's foes dismiss,
Till that glad night, when all that hate may hiss.
"This day the powder'd curls and golden coat,"
Says swelling Crispin, "begg'd a cobbler's vote."
"This night, our wit," the pert apprentice cries,
"Lies at my feet-I hiss him, and he dies."

The great, 'tis true, can charm the electing tribe;
The bard may supplicate, but cannot bribe.
Yet judged by those, whose voices ne'er were sold,
He feels no want of ill-persuading gold;
But confident of praise, if praise be due,
Trusts without fear, to merit, and to you.

(1) [" Uncheck'd, on both caprice may vent its rage,
As children fret the lion in a cage."-Orig.]

THE

GOOD-NATURED MAN.

ACT FIRST.

SCENE-An Apartment in Young HONEYWOOD's House. Enter Sir WILLIAM HONEYWOOD, JARVIS.

Sir Wм. Good Jarvis, make no apologies for this honest bluntness. Fidelity, like yours, is the best excuse for every freedom.

JARV I can't help being blunt, and being very angry too, when I hear you talk of disinheriting so good, so worthy a young gentleman as your nephew, my master. All the world loves him.

Sir Wм. Say rather, that he loves all the world; that is his fault.

JARV. I am sure there is no part of it more dear to him than you are, though he has not seen you since he was a child.

Sir WM. What signifies his affection to me; or how can I be proud of a place in a heart, where every sharper and coxcomb find an easy entrance ?

JARV. I grant you that he is rather too good-natured; that he's too much every man's man; that he laughs this minute with one, and cries the next with another: but whose instructions may he thank for all this?